


The Book Thief

by cityofravens



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Library, Damen and Laurent have the same favourite book and keep borrowing the only copy at the library, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, One Shot, actually zero angst even though you probably wont believe me, watch me rant about novels like the english student i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11384139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityofravens/pseuds/cityofravens
Summary: Laurent thought there were few worse things that could happen, than Victor Frankenstein's creation of the creature. Turns out, somebody continuously borrowing the only copy of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, aka his favourite novel, is one of them.





	The Book Thief

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is dedicated to my incredible friend, Lin. (Thank you for everything, Hun. I love you!) I hope you like it!!!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Laurent grumbled, pawing through the books on the shelf. He couldn’t find _Frankenstein_ anywhere. Laurent had only returned the book two days prior, and he wouldn’t have returned it at all if he wouldn’t have been fined for keeping it. He’d considered just buying a copy of the book himself, seeing as he read the book so often; even more so now that it acted as a key piece of inspiration for the novel he was currently writing; but there was something about the copy his local library stocked that he loved so much. Perhaps it was the fact that it was well read, the pages turned easily, the spine broken. Perhaps it was the smell that read and worn books had that comforted Laurent, or perhaps it was the little notes he found written in the book every now and then, sticky notes, reminders and questions written in pencil, quotes underlined. But more than any of these other possible reasons Laurent loved this book, Laurent had been reading this exact copy of _Frankenstein_ for years. Ever since he studied it early in high school, the novel had automatically placed itself in Laurent’s heart. In his mind. The book wasn’t necessarily a heart-felt one, but it invoked thought, it made you think philosophically about success and being remembered, about loneliness and isolation, and it made you think about what effect all these things had upon your life. The novel was his (even if it didn’t technically belong to him) and now for the fifth time in a row, somebody else had borrowed the only copy of the novel existing in the library. It was frustrating. Throughout the years this was the first time that someone other than himself so excessively borrowed the book, and Laurent was slightly concerned. What if the other never returned it, or worse ruined the novel and Laurent was never able to experience the book the same way ever again.

He let out an audible sigh, and made his way to the desk, where his favourite librarian, Susan, sat, checking out the books that a girl was borrowing.  
“Hi Laurent.” She smiled once she’d finished serving the customer.  
“Hi Susan, _Frankenstein_ is gone again. Can you check if someone borrowed it.”  
Susan chuckled. “Oh yes, that handsome man came in again yesterday to borrow it.”  
Laurent rolled his eyes, Susan called any man under the age of thirty handsome. The woman in question was nearing her mid fifties, her hair was yet to turn grey, but you could see the beginning of wrinkles in her skin. She was only one of four of the regular librarians that Laurent often saw in his frequent journeys to his local library. His favourite was Libby, a girl right out university, who was as passionate about novels as he was. The two of them would often spend long periods of time arguing over the novels they were reading at the time. However, it didn’t seem like Libby was in today. Susan smiled at him, fine smile lines around her eyes and mouth creasing her skin.  
“He might be handsome but he keeps stealing my book.” Laurent huffed at the other.  
“Now, now Laurent. The book can be borrowed by anyone. How about I let you know as soon as he returns it. “  
Laurent nodded, “Thank you. In the mean time do you have anything else worth reading?”

During the next week, as Laurent read _The Secret History_ , (the novel that Susan had highly recommended him and he had to admit he enjoyed), he wondered what this handsome stranger who kept annoyingly borrowing his book was like?  
Was _Frankenstein_ also one of his favourite novels? Did he hate Victor Frankenstein with as much passion as Laurent did, or feel sorry for the creature likewise to himself? Did he mourn the death of Frankenstein’s family and friends? Did he deliberate over the sexual identity of Walton, or fall in love with the complexity of the novel’s structure? The more Laurent thought about him, the more he created an identity for the book thief. The more he created this identity, the more Laurent was uncertain whether he wanted to befriend the man, or chastise him. The one thing Laurent was certain of, however, is he wanted to finally find out who was behind the absent nature of _Frankenstein_.

Laurent was walking out of a meeting with his publisher’s regarding his previously written novel, when he got the call from Susan.  
“I thought I should let you know that _Frankenstein_ has just been returned.”  
“Thank you. Would you be able to put the novel on hold for me until I get there?” Laurent asked, walking to his car.  
“Of course. I’ll see you soon Laurent.” Laurent murmured a farewell and hung up the phone.

Once the book was once again in his hands, he was relieved to see that the novel was in the same state he had left it in. Well read, familiar, and still in fantastic shape (despite the novel’s broken spine.) Laurent settled down in the armchair in his living room and prepared to read. Laurent’s apartment was exactly what you would have expected from a writer. Bookcases were ridden with novels, biographies, poetry; anything he could get his hands on and could read. It was warm, cosy, paper and journals and pens littered his coffee table, his kitchen table, his desk. The mess, a result of a night of chaotic, furious writing that Laurent would have to sort out sooner or later, though perhaps right now was not the right time. Laurent opened the novel and began to read. As he got further into the novel, Laurent realised that there was one big change about the novel he was now reading, there were sticky notes all throughout the book, questions asked and quotes deliberated. The handwriting was scratchy, scrawling and almost illegible. Laurent read through them all, hoping that the analysis and pondering held in these sticky notes would give him a glimpse into the life of the mysterious book thief. One statement stood out to him though. Placed next to the quote _“Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow.”_

The sticky note read;

_Is Frankenstein referring to Walton, or the reader?_

It was something that Laurent had not considered before, the fact that the messages given through Frankenstein in his recount to Walton were perhaps a message to the audience. Of course he had seen the ‘moral’ and ‘message’ that Shelley had conveyed in the novel, but the idea that Frankenstein was talking directly to the reader was something he had not deliberated over. Laurent frowned flipping through the pages, the man had seemed to note all of Laurent’s favourite quotes in the novel. Some had question marks next to them, some words of agreement, others dispute. Laurent read them all, and he felt as if he were experiencing the novel, one he had read close to a thousand times, completely anew. All of his opinions, his thoughts and feelings towards the novel were challenged. The novel he thought he knew inside and out, was foreign to him, strange, and it was amazing.

Reading this, Laurent had a sudden urge to write, he spent the entire night, playing with new ideas, new characterisation. His enlightenment about the novel had inspired him to consider new routes with his novel, and the parts of his narrative that had come to a block, once again flowed with words. It was safe to say he didn’t go to bed that night.

When the novel’s due date approached, Laurent once again felt the urge to keep the book for himself, to lie and say he had lost it, damaged it, and just pay the fine. But part of him wanted to return, wanted the mysterious man who had been borrowing his book for weeks to write more. He wanted to know more of his opinions and analysis. He wanted his eyes to be opened as they had when he had opened the book two weeks ago to find it cluttered with sticky notes. Despite the pain it brought him to return it, not to mention the inconvenience it was to come back and re-borrow the book, just so he could write his novel, Laurent made himself return the novel. Laurent shivered as he walked through the brisk air towards the library. He looked down at his feet, distracted, thinking about the book and this anonymous person who had taken up all his time and analysis. He was zoned out, in his own world, his mind filled with Frankenstein and its mystery reader, or at least it was until he ran into a wall of a person. The other reached out his hands quickly, placing them on Laurent’s shoulders to stop him from stumbling back. Laurent looked up at the man as the other smiled.  
“Sorry about that.” He pushed a few stray dark curls away from his eyes.  
Laurent shook his head. “No I’m the one who should be apologising. I wasn’t watching where I was going?”  
“All good, no harm done.” The man chuckled, “Are you going inside the library?”  
Laurent nodded in confirmation.  
“After you then.” He opened the door, motioning for Laurent to walk inside. Laurent murmured a thank you to the other, as he made a beeline for the desk.

“Hello, Laurent.” Susan smiled when Laurent approached the desk.  
“Morning Susan. I’m here to return the book I borrowed.” He held back the ‘unfortunately’ that he wanted to tack on the end and passed the book to Susan who scanned it.  
“Thanks Laurent. Are you going to look for another book?”  
Laurent sighed, “Maybe.”  
At that moment Laurent saw Libby approach the desk.  
“Hello Laurent!” He smiled a greeting back to Libby who began to chatter on about the novel she was currently reading. Through her ranting of the unnecessarily complicated plot, Laurent noticed the man he had bumped into outside the building walk up to the desk. Out of curiosity Laurent vaguely listened to the conversation as Susan said hello to him.  
“Yeah Hi. I was just wondering if you got Frankenstein back in yet? I came yesterday and was told to come back today to get it?” At the mention of _Frankenstein_ , Laurent whipped around to the desk, giving Libby the fright of her life. As she squealed, Laurent yelled accusatorily.  
“So you’re the book thief!” The man widened his eyes at Laurent’s outburst and did nothing but stare at him for a good while.  
“Sorry, what?” The man cocked his head to the side in serious confusion.  
“You’re the person who keeps borrowing my book.” Laurent explained.  
“You mean _Frankenstein_?” The other asked, “I don’t really think it belongs to anybody.”  
Laurent sighed in frustration. “I know, I know. I didn’t mean it was my book as in it’s my own. I meant my book as in it’s mine.”  
The man looked at him, just as confused as he was before.  
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter however, is that you actually liked Victor Frankenstein’s character. Nobody likes Frankenstein.”  
The other startled a little, surprised Laurent had even known the other’s opinions on the novel’s protagonist, until he must have realised his mistake.  
“Oh I forgot to take my notes out!” He exclaimed, and Laurent nodded, smirking slightly. “I wouldn’t say I actually liked him, more that I felt sorry for him. I pitied him more than anything.”  
Laurent huffed. “Pitied him? Please he brought it all upon himself. He was nothing but ambitious. He only wanted success, and it brought his demise.”  
The man shrugged, considering Laurent’s point for a moment before retorting,  
“See I’d disagree with you. Frankenstein’s pursuit to tip the balance of life had a direct correlation to his mother’s death. It was an emotional endeavour and not only fuelled through his ambitions. He didn’t want to go through the pain of losing a loved one again and ironically enough, because of it, he lost them all.”

  
Laurent stared the other man down. He had so many opinions he could rattle off about but he was a little scared of coming off too strong and scaring the other man away. He was unfairly attractive (he hated to admit that Susan was right about that) and his love for books and his analysis of Victor’s character only made him more so (even if Laurent didn’t agree with his opinions.) Maybe the other man noticed Laurent holding back because he smiled and held out his hand for Laurent to shake.  
“I’m Damen by the way.”  
He took his hand, “Laurent.”  
“Listen Laurent, did you by any chance want to continue this debate over coffee, I’m not sure we’re supposed to be arguing this loud in a library.” He laughed.  
Laurent was about to tell Damen that Libby and Susan would never kick him out, before he realised that Damen was asking him on a date. Laurent, bit his lip to stop himself from smiling too much.  
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Laurent shrugged, his attempt at stopping his expression from becoming a massive smiling mess, failing miserably. Damen’s face broke out in an expression of relief.  
“Awesome. I’ll just borrow the book and then we’ll go!”  
Libby and Susan smiled at the pair of them with coy smiles and Laurent can’t be certain but he’s about 90% sure that he sees Susan slip Libby a five dollar note as Damen and himself leave the library.

“So, there’s this really cute coffee place right down the road, do you know it?” Damen asks him as they walk out into the cool air.  
“Antiqui(tea).” Laurent smiles, nodding.  
“Yes that’s the one! I was thinking we could go there? If that’s okay with you?”  
Laurent realises that Damen seems nervous, not at all like the man who had just argued with a stranger about the book they were both currently reading. Laurent glances to Damen’s messenger bag, where he sees the corner of _Frankenstein_ peeking out from the canvas. He smiles to himself.  
“Yes, that’s great! I often go there on my way from the library.”  
“Oh cool!” Damen smiles. “You must be here often. Do you work there? I go to the library quite frequently but I’ve never seen you before.”  
“Oh no, I just go there often. I’m a writer, so novels act as my main source of inspiration and motivation. I’ve been going there since I was in high school though, so all of the staff know me.”  
“Wow, a writer! That’s pretty impressive. Have any of your works been published yet?” Damen asks him, eyes wide. The way he talks to Laurent with every ounce of his attention, has Laurent’s heart soaring.  
“I actually have one being released in the next few months.” Laurent murmured, sheepishly.  
“Really?” Damen exclaimed, “Well, you’ll have to let me know when it comes out.”  
It was an invitation. Laurent’s sure of it. They’d spent barely ten minutes in each other’s company and Damen was already talking about seeing him again. How was he real? He was attractive, an avid reader, like Laurent, and he seemed genuine. There must have been something wrong with him. But Laurent could not see a fault, particularly now, when the other was talking about reading Laurent’s own writing.  
“You’d want to read it? You don’t even know if I’m a good writer?” Laurent laughed.  
“I don’t need to. If you’re half as passionate about your novel as you are about this Frankenstein book, then I’m 100% certain it’s going to be amazing.”

Laurent felt his cheeks go red as Damen pushed open the café door. The two of them made their way to the front counter, where Damen started ordering himself a coffee.  
“What would you like?”  
It takes Laurent a moment to realise Damen was speaking to him.  
“Oh, you really don’t have to pay for me.” Laurent rushed.  
“It’s fine Laurent, my treat.” Damen smiled, warmly, in a way that made Laurent feel as if he couldn’t refuse.  
Laurent murmured a thank you, and told Damen his order – a peppermint tea. When the drinks were ordered Laurent and Damen sat down at a table. Antiqi(tea) was known for it’s quaint, antique and vintage styled furniture. It felt cosy and relaxing, and Laurent found it the perfect environment for reading, with a tea or other hot beverage, on a day where the cold air and drab sky, drew you indoors.  
“So, what do you do? As an occupation, I mean.” Laurent asked, sipping away at his tea.  
“Oh, I’m a high school English teacher.”  
Laurent rose his eyebrows. “That seems like a… brave profession.”  
Laughing, Damen continued.  
“It’s challenging, especially as it’s my first year out of uni, and the kids are almost as old a me. But I like what I do; I like making people like reading and writing.”  
“You seem passionate.” Laurent observed. Damen smiled.  
“I sure hope so. I’m putting so much into these kids, I just hope they all get the marks they need.”  
“With some of your analysis in the Frankenstein novel, I’m more than certain you’re doing a great job of teaching them!” Laurent confirmed, “Speaking of _Frankenstein_ , what are your opinions on the creature?”  
“I felt sorry for him, despite everything he did. I felt as if it were only his rejection from society that moved him to his actions. He was such an emotional character, he narrated with such feeling, that you could hardly feel spite or anger at all the terrible things he did.” Damen spoke, moving his hands every now and then, to emphasise his point. Laurent smirked.  
“Finally something we can agree on.”

The two conversed back and forth for hours, sometimes arguing, sometimes nodding at each other in agreement. As it was getting close to late afternoon and the two were finally asked to leave the café so they could close, they prepared to say their goodbyes.  
“I just wanted to make sure of one thing before I left.” Damen said, shivering slightly from the cold. “Was this a date? Because I’d really like it to have been.”  
Laurent froze momentarily, before he laughed.  
“I guess you’re going to have to tell me that, seeming as you were the one who asked me out. But just for the record, I’d really like this to have been a date too.”  
Damen’s face broke out in a smile.  
“Okay, okay. Cool. Well then, can I have your number?” Laurent fumbled around for his phone that he shoved into Damen’s hands, perhaps a little too forcibly.  
“Of course.”  
Taking Damen’s phone, the pair swapped contacts and handed the phones back to each other. For a few moments afterwards they did nothing but stare at each other.  
“Well, I better get going.” Laurent smiled. He desperately hoped that Damen made a move of some sort, preferably kissing him. That’s how dates were supposed to end right? But Damen says nothing but,  
“Oh, yeah, yeah. I’ll see you round?”  
“Yep. Bye Damen.” Laurent turned. Disappointed. He’s about to let out a sigh when Damen calls him.  
“Laurent?”  
“Yes?” Laurent can’t help but here the hope in his own voice. He cringes.  
“How are you getting home?” It wasn’t what Laurent expected, or what he was hoping for but he still answers.  
“Public transport. I didn’t drive today.”  
“Did you want a lift home?” Damen asks. At the thought of getting to spend more time with Damen, Laurent smiles.  
“That would be great, thank you.”

The ride back to Laurent’s was filled with the same conversation that littered their afternoon. The topic constantly changing between debating over novels, the two of them had read. Or sharing bits and pieces of their lives with the other, in order to get to know each other better.  
“This is me.” Laurent smiled, as they pulled up outside his apartment complex. “Thank you so much for the ride.”  
“It was no problem, really.” Laurent nodded his head at Damen, and the two of them started the staring contest they’d been playing all day. Though, this time instead of hoping Damen would kiss him, Laurent murmured;  
“I’m going to kiss you,” barely waiting for Damen’s nod of his head, before placing his lips to Damen’s. The kiss was slow, soft, and Laurent’s hands wandered from Damen’s cheeks, down his arms and to his waist. Damen caressed Laurent’s face slowly, at the same tempo at which they kissed. Their lips grazed each other’s with tender movements and Laurent couldn’t help but feel as if he were in a book of his own, as if he’d finally won over his own love interest. He felt like Elizabeth Bennet, when she finally kissed Mr. Darcy. Laurent thought back to all his exchanges with Damen over the last few weeks, despite never having met him, and smiled. Maybe Damen would be a Mr. Darcy of Laurent’s own.

When the two pulled away, Laurent smiled before removing himself from the car.  
“I’ll see you later Damen.” Laurent waved, walking towards his apartment building. Upon seeing what was in Laurent’s hands, Damen shouted jokingly in exclamation.  
“Hey!”  
Laurent held _Frankenstein_ out in front of him, and laughed.  
“I guess you’re going to have to see me again sometime soon, to get this back. It might be a hefty fine, if you forgot to return it.”  
“I guess I will.” Damen laughed. The two exchanged goodbyes and then Damen drove off, a wide smile on his face. Laurent’s mouth was pulled into a similar smile as he held the book to his chest, whispering a thank you to the tattered, well-worn pages of Mary Shelley’s _Frankenstein_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Work inspired by a prompt found on promptlywritingideas on tumblr
> 
> As usual you can find me at @AkielosVere on twitter!


End file.
